Charmed Macbeth
Chapter Three
Phoebe was washing dishes at the sink. 'I can do that, Phoebe.' Piper volunteered. Since I usually do all the housework anyway, she thought to herself.
'It's alright. I can do it.'
Piper nearly had a heart attack at Phoebe volunteering to do housework. She pulled herself together. 'I've been thinking about your premonition.'
'I think not of it. Go to bed, Piper. It's late.'
Piper raised her eyebrows. 'Touchy.' But she left and went up to her bedroom.
Phoebe continued to wash the dishes. Staring into the soapsuds she saw the outline of a dagger. 'Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle clutched toward my hand? Come; let me clutch thee- owww! I'm bleeding!' There had indeed been a knife in the sink, waiting to be washed. Phoebe stared at the knife.
'And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before.'
The grandfather clock in the hall began to strike. One, two, three. Phoebe wiped the bench with a cloth. Four, Five, Six. She pulled the plug out of the sink. Seven, Eight, nine. Her hand clasped the knife. Ten, Eleven, Twelve.
'I go, and it is done, the clock invites me. Hear it not, Prue, for it is a knell, that summons thee to heaven or to hell.
Chapter Three
Phoebe was washing dishes at the sink. 'I can do that, Phoebe.' Piper volunteered. Since I usually do all the housework anyway, she thought to herself.
'It's alright. I can do it.'
Piper nearly had a heart attack at Phoebe volunteering to do housework. She pulled herself together. 'I've been thinking about your premonition.'
'I think not of it. Go to bed, Piper. It's late.'
Piper raised her eyebrows. 'Touchy.' But she left and went up to her bedroom.
Phoebe continued to wash the dishes. Staring into the soapsuds she saw the outline of a dagger. 'Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle clutched toward my hand? Come; let me clutch thee- owww! I'm bleeding!' There had indeed been a knife in the sink, waiting to be washed. Phoebe stared at the knife.
'And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, which was not so before.'
The grandfather clock in the hall began to strike. One, two, three. Phoebe wiped the bench with a cloth. Four, Five, Six. She pulled the plug out of the sink. Seven, Eight, nine. Her hand clasped the knife. Ten, Eleven, Twelve.
'I go, and it is done, the clock invites me. Hear it not, Prue, for it is a knell, that summons thee to heaven or to hell.